


Facade

by TheMidnightRiot



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gore, Reality, Red Riding Hood - Freeform, dissorted reality, dream - Freeform, fairytale, fairytale AU, gruesome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-28
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2017-12-16 11:54:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/861709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMidnightRiot/pseuds/TheMidnightRiot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And Red Riding Hood said:<br/>-Grandmother, what big teeth you have got!<br/>To which the big bad Wolf responded:<br/>-All the better to eat you up with.<br/>Except Red Riding Hood was not herself. She was another. She was the wolf. And the wolf was not himself. He was another. He was Red Riding Hood. She was the big bad wolf.<br/>Both were exactly the opposite to what they were originally meant to be<br/>And in another universe, these roles were inverted as well.<br/>All because a wicked little thug with red suspenders opened a forbidden book<br/>All because his mischiveous twin sister scribbled a prophecy in a piece of paper<br/>And gave it to the beautiful blonde with pink eyes<br/>And they never lived happily ever after<br/>Because their world was never meant to be<br/>a fairytale</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Wolf

-Callie, wake up! - Roxy’s voice echoed in the unknown vastness of the room, its dimensions unknown. The lighting was far too intense. Was it daytime? The perception was unknown.  
Calliope blinked and opened her eyes to Roxy’s smile. She soothed Callie’s troubled head, softly petting it, which comforted her. Roxy kissed Calliope’s forehead, in a protective manner. She spoke in a sweet voice, like a little girl’s voice. 

-Callie, wake up…-she whispered yet again. Her voice was softer than silk, sweeter than sugar. Calliope’s mind was flooded with doubts. How had they gotten here? It all seemed so unreal, so…fake. Like in a children’s tale.

She slowly began to move away from Roxy, dragging herself a few feet away from her. She blinked in disbelief as she opened her eyes to a clearing. As though they’d just been painted into an artist’s canvas, the palette of colors was as unusual as it was precious: deep, dark emerald greens, blooming brownish tones, pitch black and pure white. The pine trees of the forest, tall as titans, were dressed in a leather snow cape, their branches and their leaves leaking and dripping snow. The grass beneath Callie’s feet was also tainted with snow, freezing to the touch. The air was rather chilly, rather sharply cold. She shivered and her teeth clenched, as she looked up above the height of the pine trees. The light was no longer blinding. It was no longer present. Only a thin shade of black covered the skies now. Sitting gracefully atop of it all was the big round moon. 

Yet the flickering moonlight shining down on the clearing was somewhat…unsettling. As though it could bring nothing other than…than…Calliope couldn’t even finish figuring out whatever wave of disturbing thoughts she might have been dwelling on, because she was far too busy focusing on Roxy. Roxy and her brand new red riding hood. Roxy and her shiny new toy, a silver axe, sharp to the eye and probably to the touch as well. Roxy and her burning eyes, now tainted with a dangerous shade of red. Roxy’s eyes focusing on Calliope. Calliope and her brand new thick layer of brown, dark fur. Calliope and her shiny new snout, gifted with a sharp and acute sense of smell. Calliope and her eyes, now tainted with an evil shade of black. Soon, a barrier of tension was built between them. 

-Grandmother, what big arms you have!-said Roxy in a voice so sweet it could melt butter.

Calliope took a step back. Roxy took a step forward. 

-All the better to hug you with, my dear,-said Calliope in a voice so grim it could give children nightmares.

Calliope took another step back. Roxy took another step forward.

-Grandmother, what big legs you have!-said Roxy in a voice so tender it could pacify the fiercest storm.

-All the better to run with, my child,-said Calliope in a voice so deep it could make the thickest wall tremble. 

Calliope began to crouch. Roxy began to lift her axe, as though she was a lumberjack about to chop down a tree.

-Grandmother, what big ears you have!-said Roxy in a voice softer than all the silk in the world.

-All the better to hear with, my child,-said Calliope in a voice calmer than the loneliest lagoon.

The tip of Calliope’s ears briefly fluttered. Roxy’s arm froze in place as she took a quick step back and examined Calliope with acute eyes. 

-Grandmother, what big eyes you have!-said Roxy in a voice so numb it could kill all the flowers quicker than the harshest winter.

-All the better to see with, my child-said Calliope in a voice so quiet the silence was almost deadly.

Calliope breathed in the chilly air and growled, exposing her humid fangs, thirsty for blood and flesh. Roxy lifted the axe above her head and flashed a tender smile. 

-Grandmother, what big teeth you have got!-Roxy said in a voice so wicked it was as though it did not belong to her.

-All the better to eat you up with,-Calliope said in a voice so frank it was almost a lie. Almost. 

In the distance, two sounds were clearly heard. A big bad wolf growling and howling at the moon. A tender little girl in a red riding hood letting out a war cry, followed by the sound of an axe cutting through animal flesh.  


	2. The Hero

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that I will be switching the main character focus on each chapter, following a specific schedule which shall be explained by the story (a.k.a weird plot shit or interuniverse POV's? Whatever floats your boat) itself, and IN the story itself. So expect to be extreeeeeeemely confused at first and then it'll just hit you like a domino (kinda like in the actual Homestuck, come think about it)

Roxy blinked and found herself back in the middle of Literature class. She soon became aware it must’ve been the same twisted daydream again. How odd for her, to have the very same daydream, every day. She’d also dream it, at night, when the lights were off and the room was silent. And she’d wake up in a tangle of messy hear and sweat. Then she’d drift back to sleep. And it was the same dream. Over and over. She feared soon she’d start seeing the very same fantasy when she blinked. She feared soon it’d take over her life.

She tried to get her mind off the fucked up fantasy ruling her mind and turned her eyes to the beauty two seats away from her, to the left. Soon that frown turned into a smile. If there was something about Calliope that wondered Roxy, that was her eyes. Her eyes were just so…captivating, so magical. Bright green, almost to be confused with neon. Those eyes seduced Roxy in a ridiculous, almost foolish way. She would’ve gazed into Calliope’s eyes whilst she scribbled whatever in her sketchbook, whilst she looked up with a smile to Mr. Scratch, the Literature & Philosophy teacher, whilst she got up and picked up her books and walked over to her…

Wait, what? Suddenly, Roxy found herself looking up at Calliope from her seat, while the latter just flashed a smile to Mr. Scratch as he left and then turned to Roxy with a rather neutral, serious expression, her brows perfectly synched in a thin line,-for they were as thin as an artist’s fine pen stroke,-and her eyes focused on Roxy in a rather grim fashion. She gulped and tried her best not to look like a lovesick fool, or a desperate wimp. But what worried her the most was the look on Calliope’s eyes. Those pretty bright green eyes had somehow lost their usual glow, only to be replaced with grim eyes, terrifying, null. Null. Shivers climbed down Roxy’s spine to the very thought of having upset dear Calliope with whatever she might have done or said in the past. Oh dear, had she come to confront her about something? Roxy was only a millisecond close to falling to her knees and begging for forgiveness, giving Calliope and whatever crowd of onlookers stayed behind to presence it, the most pathetic and desperate spectacle to ever be witnessed by...well, anyone, when suddenly, Calliope herself tugged out a ragged piece of paper folded in half, and handed it to Roxy. Dumbfolded, she unfolded it and stopped for a minute to contemplate its meaning. It was…a drawing? Calliope was handing her one of her artworks? Oh dear, what honor! Roxy was almost struggling not to blush. She glanced at it briefly, before something caught her eye. The drawing was very curious. It’d been done on a plain piece of paper, with a black ballpoint pen, and was very edgy and sketchy. It displayed a familiar setting, something like a clearing. A huge beast with pointy fangs at each end of its mouth was facing a rather short lady with a riding hood and an axe. Roxy almost let out a frustrated cry. Not again. Not this scenario. Not this story. She knew the ending far too well.

But also…how the hell did Calliope know?

Before she could even ask, the artist in question had disappeared from sight before Roxy could ask any questions. But she’d somehow managed to leave a small note on Roxy’s lap. It read, loud and clear:  
“Stay away from the red”  
Roxy read it to herself quite a few times before even stopping to try to digest its meaning. But all she could think of was the look on Calliope’s eyes when she handed her the piece of ragged paper. It was the type of look she didn’t get very often, especially from Calliope. It gave out an unsettling impression, as though Calliope was…  
…afraid of her?  
The bell indicating the start of the following period rang loud and clear, but Roxy remained in the empty classroom, dwelling on how a pair of bright green eyes had turned into a pair of black voids in a matter of seconds.  
 


	3. The Crime Scene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Length of chapters may vary. Not all chapters follow a specific length standard. But they are all, however, relevant, despite whatever length they might be.

Fairytales are as deceiving as they are seducing. Which is why dear sweet Roxy knew that she had to watch her back and keep her guard if she wanted to survive this…peculiar world.

Although, as she crossed the curious trail in the thick midst, almost too thick to allow her to see further than a few meters, she couldn’t help but wonder if killing the wolf had been really worth it. I mean, sure, all she was trying to do was…guide her in her journey, or whatever. She felt a bit guilty, unsure. But there was no going back. Once the jugular had been slain and the blood spilt, it was maybe a bit too late to regret one’s actions.  
But oh goodness, grandma would have been so disappointed to see her commit such atrocity! For she’d been raised to believe the world is a magical place filled with all kinds of wonderful people.  
Lies. The world stops being a fairytale when you’re old enough to realize you’re looked down upon for expecting to live in one. You’re told you’re being “childish” and “immature”. You’re told to give it all up.

And indeed Roxy had given it all up, hadn’t she? It’s not as if her life had been much of a fairytale either. Had it been, maybe, her mother wouldn’t have been in a constant state of intoxication the entire time.  
No time to think of that, though. She had a couple of errands to run before heading back home. That is, if said errands were run correctly. If not, then there would maybe not even be a home to head back to. Or even a beating heart to allow it.

Roxy spotted a dim flickering light penetrating through the midst. This was it, she thought. She quickened her pace and found herself only meters away from it. This was it. The house. Grandmother’s house.  
She took brief and quick steps before preparing to wield her weapon, and dryly knocking on the door exactly three times.

The door opened with a loud creek.

-I’m home, Grandmother,-Roxy said as she walked in to refuge herself from the bitter outdoor cold, still ready to wield the axe underneath her red riding hood. The door shut behind her back with a loud thud.


	4. The Villain

Lil’ Callie wasn’t the type of girl who meddled with ruffians and thugs. She was calm and soft and sweet and kind. And overall, she always kept a knife at hand. For times when talk was cheap and blood was fast and easy to spill.

And she was also terribly quiet. Vaguely made any sounds. If not for her douchebag assblood of a brother, nobody would know how loud she could scream. The guy was the type you just knew had probably been that one kid in kindergarten who’d steal everyone’s toys, throw fits daily and pull girls’ hair. Most wondered if their parents were even around. Like, ever. They never seemed to mention any, though. Maybe they were orphans? That would explain a lot, if it was the case. But the story is…different.  
Yet Calliope managed to get by. In spite of her brother’s temper. Caliborn was a jerkface anyways. So she didn’t really bother.

She had bigger issues to deal with, anyways. Like Roxy. And the Book.  
The Book. She’d strictly warned Caliborn NEVER to open the Book. But oh dear, she should’ve just KNOWN her warnings would only urge him to defy the status quo. And there he was, sticking his nose in the goddamn Book like flies on a pie. And what was she to do now? Clean up after his mess, of course. Sometimes she wished he was dead.

But Roxy was more important now. She had to know her role in the story, or else they’d all be doomed. Even if she’d only talked to Roxy once or twice, she’d been waiting for her during her whole life. She was the simplest target so far.

Yet HOW was she supposed to convince the others?

She’d have to manage. The next full moon was fast approaching. She only had three weeks before her brother awakened from the slumber.

And when he did, there was no going back. She had to be ready to battle him.  
The bell rang as Calliope took her seat in Mr. Scratch’s Literature & Philosophy class. He was writing something on the board. Then, he proceeded to turn to the rest of the class with a very dull yet intimidating expression, and announced:  
-Today we will discuss the philosophy and nature of fairytales.


	5. The Other Villain

This was a bad idea. A really, really bad idea.

Ten minutes prior to the current event taking place, Roxy was just an innocent girl with a red riding hood, a basket full of useless junk and an innocent axe, entering her beloved Grandmother’s home to bring her whatever fattening greasy junk mother cooked for her. She really despised mother’s food. While one usually worships and claims one’s maternal figure is the best cook to have ever existed, and will gladly slay the throat of whoever tries to tell otherwise, Roxy simply thought her mother was…not the most talented chef to have ever been born. Her food was usually undercooked, burnt or foul. Guess that could explain her reluctance of consuming it, and why she was ever so hungry. And bony. 

But mother’s foul cooking skills were irrelevant at the moment. Upon letting herself into the house,-which by the way was completely unprotected,-she knew she’d encounter the following villain. Yet she could not have sensed, by any means, that this villain would be equipped with such…unusual weapons.  
Which is to say: Roxy never imagined the Hunter would be hiding a grappling hook and a sword. These items were –SO- outcast to the actual context of the story! She thought Calliope was kidding at first.  
The douchebag popped up out of nowhere (beneath Grandmother’s bed sheets, to be precise) and had wielded his weapons against poor defenseless Roxy, who’d lost her weapon in the middle of the battle.

Yet somehow…he hadn’t murdered her. She thought he’d at least try to end her in a dramatic fashion as to take control of the story, but all he’d done was lock her up in the narrow, clogged wooden closet, a few feet away from Grandmother’s bed. To top it off, he’d swallowed the key. And Roxy had been stripped off any item she might use to escape. 

He’d also taken her basket and was gobbling up the undercooked ham Mother had cooked for Grandmother. The nasty sounds he made as he swallowed chunks whole was utterly disgusting. And tempting. She hadn’t eaten in what felt like days. 

How could he even enjoy a meal of such quality? I mean, it was even disgusting at SIGHT! Just looking at it made her feel…  
…nausea. Suddenly, something clicked deep down in Roxy’s mind.  
Undercooked ham. That would cause him food poisoning within a few hours. He’d be vomiting like a newborn brat and the contents expelled would most likely include the key to the closet!

Now, the real question was:

How was she gonna reach the key in the first place?


End file.
